


The Stowaway

by Silex



Category: Original Work
Genre: Elves, Fantasy, Gen, Gift Fic, Minotaurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 15:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16349219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/pseuds/Silex
Summary: While traveling through human lands the caravan Xarllo Oakenhorn was assigned to guard ends up with a most unexpected stowaway.





	The Stowaway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HostisHumaniGeneris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/gifts).



> You said that gen was fine worldbuilding was a plus, so I kind of ran with that. Sorry if it doesn't match what you hoped for, but the idea hit me and I just let it happen.

Xarllo Oakenhorn had seen many strange things in his day, but none as peculiar at what he found upon returning to the caravan after going out hunting with Dorlynn. Then again, it had been a strange enough trip for him, protecting the caravan and making sure that they didn’t encounter any trouble, no matter how some members of the caravan may have been looking for it.

Tamahae, his adoptive father had sent the minotaur along on the caravan to serve as a guard, but also to keep an eye on the young noble, so when Dorlynn had said that he felt like hunting Xarllo had picked up his own bow and followed along despite the young Elf’s protests.

Xarllo had heard it all before, that he’d frighten away the game with his noise and scent, but all he had to do was point to the sigil of living beech wood woven between his horns to remind Dorlynn that he wasn’t just arguing with a caravan guard, but one appointed by House Kirsgelieos.

He had helped Dorlynn track a stag, because even if the Elf didn’t need his assistance in finding game, the delay was unnecessary and best kept as short as possible. The last thing that Xarllo wanted was for them to come into conflict with humans. He’d already dealt with plenty of bandits along the trip, most of them taking one look at Xarllo and deciding to look for easier targets. So far he hadn’t needed to draw his sword or string his bow once, except during Dorlynn’s hunting trips.

He knew why the Elf was doing it too. It was one thing that the Elves had the right to hunt on the human King’s lands, it was another to flaunt it the way Dorlynn did. The minotaur knew that the young Elf hoped to encounter a patrol of human rangers who would no doubt demand to know what he was doing, at which point he would dramatically show the writ of permission with the human King’s seal as well that of House Kirsgelieos, as though the sigil that Xarllo bore wasn’t enough. So far that hadn’t happened and for that Xarllo was thankful.

Their hunting trip had been unsuccessful, mostly due to Dorlynn’s impatience. It was strange how an Elf could have such a hard time waiting when the Architect Mages would spend centuries tending to the trees so that they would grow into aesthetically appealing forms. Yet Dorlynn couldn’t even wait for a half decent shot.

When they returned Xarllo was pleased to find that Ynaselle had gone hunting as well and had fared better than they had. Content to go after small game with the little sun owl she had named Hyssi, she had managed to get a brace of rabbits as well as a few pheasants. He knew that the Elves would claim the birds for their own meal that night, but he was content to have the rabbits. While the food they had brought with them for the journey was fine, he preferred fresh meat when possible. It was a habit that Tamahae had never managed to train out of him, despite the Elf’s best efforts.

Another aspect of the minotaur was an inherent sense of suspicion. Even if the rest of the caravan had failed to notice it, he saw the trail leading to the rearmost wagon. Emerging from the woods, a nearly straight line of flattened grass intersected the road and didn’t continue on the other side.

Something had entered the wagon.

Or someone, he quickly determined after sniffing the place where the canvas had been pulled aside and several crates moved to accommodate whoever it was.

Human was his guess by scent, though not like any of the humans he’d encountered so far. They had the sweat of work about them and the smell of dirt from the road. This one was sour with fear and it wasn’t his imagination that he could hear their attempts at breathing quietly, even as their heart beating rabbit fast betrayed them.

He turned form the wagon to give Ilphar a look. He was the one who was supposed to have been keeping an eye on the rear while the wagons were stopped.

Ilphar refused to look him in the eye, though to his credit he didn’t go pale as he stared at Xarllo’s horns and the sigil held between them. Ilphar knew that any excuse he made wasn’t just to the minotaur, but to House Kirsgelieos.

“ _Next time less birdwatching_ ,” the minotaur snarled, which was quite an accomplishment in High Formal Elvin, but he’d found that insults in the vernacular had less impact, “ _What if it had been bandits?_ ”

“ _It won’t happen again_ ,” the Elf saluted the sigil between Xarllo’s horns, apologizing to the House he represented rather than the minotaur himself.

That was acceptable, for it was the House he would have to answer to if anything happened on the journey, and that was far more frightening than anything Xarllo would do to him directly.

“ _How do we deal with them without damaging the cargo?_ ” Dorlynn wondered, focused on the right thing for once.

There was an obvious answer to that, even if, like most simple things, it escaped the young noble.

“ _We move the crates first_ ,” Xarllo ducked down to keep his horns from getting tangled and grabbed one of the crates.

“ _Careful_ ,” Dorlynn warned unnecessarily.

The minotaur snorted and lifted the crate, prompting whoever was hiding in the wagon to gasp and back farther into the corner.

Whoever they were and whatever they were doing, they were afraid. The Elves were all noseblind, but to him it was as plain as the sun and moon. Their fear and the fact that their scent was that of a female made him doubt that they were a bandit. Perhaps a captive of bandits, but not a bandit.

“We know you’re here,” he switched to common for the benefit of the stowaway, “Come out.”

Instead of doing as told they continued to hide and responded with a question of their own, “How long until we arrive in Elvin lands?”

Their voice confirmed what his nose had led him to believe, they were female, and young, but their inflection was different than the other humans they’d encountered, their words sharp and clear. It made him wonder if perhaps they were a young scholar with more ambition than wit following some harebrained scheme to study in one of the great libraries.

“You’ve picked the wrong caravan,” he laughed, “We’re heading to Kitorval.”

The young woman let out a wail of frustration, “We can’t. You’ll have to turn around.”

Xarllo exchanged a look with Ilphar. Dorlynn began to draw his sword.

“ _Do you know who you’re speaking to human?_ ” the Dorlynn demanded.

Since he was speaking in Formal Elvin Xarllo didn’t expect that Dorlynn would get a response.

“ _Do you know who_ you _are speaking to?_ ”

It was a struggle for Xarllo not to laugh at the look of the Elf’s face.

Their stowaway had responded in High Formal. The pronunciation left something to be desired, the accent was atrocious and their words were stilted, but it was High Formal none the less.

“ _We’ve got ourselves a scholar then_ ,” Xarllo joked to justify his laughter before switching back to common, “We don’t, other than a stowaway.”

The young woman sat up and pulled back the hood of her traveler’s cloak dramatically.

It would have been far more impressive, Xarllo supposed, if he had any idea of who she was. He could tell by her dark hair and swarthy features that she was probably descended from nobility, as the human empire had seen to it that the majority of its noble families had blood ties to the capital in the north. She was a scholar then, dabbling in it as was common for women in human noble families, probably thinking that if she ran away she might somehow be able to continue her education in a proper school rather than under the tutors hired by her parents. Then again, all humans looked dark skinned to him, given the naturally silvery complexions of the Elves he had been raised amongst.

Ynaselle swore, pushing past Xarllo for a closer look at the girl.

“Scra’s fangs, the riders that passed us three nights ago, heading towards Kitorval, they were after you!”

Hyssi hooted irritably and hopped off Ynaselle’s shoulder to sit on one of the crates. Sun owl or not, the little bird preferred to rest in the dark when it wasn’t hunting.

“ _Is she a thief?_ ” Xarllo wondered.

Ynaselle shook her head and addressed the girl, “You expect us to know who you are, so who are you?”

“I’m…” she trailed off, going pale which was interesting to watch given the naturally dark color of her skin. She stared at Xarllo as though seeing him for the first time, “You’re…”

“A minotaur,” he finished for her.

The still nameless human woman stared at Ynaselle as though she might offer some explanation.

It was a reaction that Xarllo had grown used to while traveling through human lands. Back home Tamahae’s eccentricities were well enough known that no one was actually surprised to encounter a minotaur wearing the sigil of House Kirsgelieos.

“It’s a long story,” Dorlynn smirked, speaking in common for the benefit of the stowaway no doubt.

“No it’s not. As a calf I was given as a gift to House Kirsgelieos by another of the High Houses,” Xarllo stared pointedly at Dorlynn, suspecting that this was somehow going to end in a game of one-upmanship with the noble.

“ _As a joke_ ,” Dorlynn reminded, “ _No one expected that Tamahae would keep you._ ”

“But he did,” Xarllo bore his teeth in a predatory grin, “And saw to it that it was taught in the arts, both martial and otherwise so that I could represent him in matters outside of our lands.”

Influential as his adopted father was, Tamahae hadn’t been able to get Xarllo recognized as a scholar or blade master, but did the next best thing and appointed him as a representative of his House and no one dared question his appointing a bull-headed monster to such a position, at least not to his face.

Now the human woman was looking back and forth between him and Dorlynn.

“Can I demand sanctuary in House Kirsgelieos?” She asked haughtily.

He, Dorlynn and Ynaselle spoke as one, “No.”

“May I request sanctuary?” She corrected herself.

“Who are you?” Xarllo demanded, getting back to the point.

“Princess Shansra.”

“I thought so,” Ynaselle frowned.

At the same time Dorlynn laughed, “ _Impossible. She’s a thief and a liar._ ”

“ _She looks just like the human queen_ ,” Ynaselle said simply, as though no other explanation were needed.

“ _All humans look the same_ ,” Dorlynn scoffed.

Xarllo was inclined to agree with him, but there was something about the girl.

“Show me your hands,” he demanded.

“Why?” The stowaway wondered, but did as told.

The young woman’s nails were smooth and long, not like the claws that the grove dryads had, but close enough, her skin soft and unmarred by scars or callouses. They were not he hands of someone who had done menial labor.

“ _She’s got a scholar’s hands,_ ” Xarllo offered, “ _It doesn’t make her a princess, but it doesn’t make her a thief either. Besides, by the smell of her she’s not been on the road as long as we have._ ”

“ _What’s a princess doing here anyway?_ ” Ilphar wondered.

“ _A very good question_ ,” Ynaselle agreed before addressing the stowaway, “I believe you, but how did you end up here?”

“It’s a long story,” the human girl sighed.

“We’ve got time,” Xarllo grumbled, already wondering what they’d do if it turned out the girl really was the princess. Depending on how she’d ended up all the way out here it could prove to be quite the difficult situation.

“My parents have arranged for me to be married to Thastrek Highforge,” she frowned, “And I can’t.”

Dorlynn tried and failed to conceal a snicker as a cough, which was the exact reason why he couldn’t be trusted to go out without someone to keep an eye on him.

As far as Xarllo was concerned the story didn’t hold water. There was no conflict between the humans and the Dwarves and to keep it that way such arranged marriages between the youngest children of two families were hardly uncommon. There had to be something to it that wasn’t apparent.

“Not when Ranet wants me dead,” she finished dramatically.

Ilphar shook his head and muttered something in low speak that made Xarllo’s ears twitch. He’d known that Ilphar had come from a less than noble heritage, but he’d never imagined him saying anything like that. Then again, Ranet Bittersmelter Gemcrown wasn’t well liked by anyone except the Dwarves and even that was arguable. He’d been trying to restart conflict between humans and Dwarves for the better part of a decade now, objecting to the tradition of intermarrying under the claim that it poisoned bloodlines, which was preposterous. Everyone knew that no children had ever been produced from such a union, but his position as the Dwarven queen’s brother meant that he had a far wider audience than he should have.

In fact, though Xarllo wasn’t one to give much credence to hearsay, it did fit what he’d heard about the Dwarf. Having a human princess assassinated to drive a wedge between the humans and the dwarves didn’t seem entirely unreasonable given that he’d had countless Elvin diplomats expelled from the mountains under absurd pretenses.

At the same time Dwarven affairs weren’t their concern. They were obligated to return the princess to her family, certainly, but what happened to her after that didn’t matter.

Except a war between the humans and the Dwarves would have repercussions on the Elvin lands as well.

“ _Ynaselle, can I borrow Hyssi? I’m going to write a letter to my father. We’ll have time before we arrive in Kitorval and I want to know what he thinks we should do._ ”

The human princess blinked at him in a manner quite reminiscent of Hyssi, “Does that let you speak?”

She gestured at the sigil between his horns.

Dorlynn had to step away to maintain avoid bursting into laughter and further ruining his questionable dignity.

Xarllo fought to keep his ears from twitching as though shaking off an annoying fly, “No.”

She leaned closer, more curious than afraid, “Then how do you talk?”

“The same as anyone,” this time his ears did twitch.

“But cows can’t speak and you –”

“Are a minotaur,” he cut her off.

“ _I’ll go find some parchment_ ,” Ynaselle interjected, “ _And lend you Hyssi to deliver the letter. This isn’t what I signed up for when I joined this little venture and I’ll be glad to have it out of our hands._ ”

The human princess was still staring at him, clearly wanting to ask another question.

He had to agree with Ynaselle, this wasn’t what he had signed up for either and he didn’t like it.

“Are you her pet?”

He didn’t like it one bit.


End file.
